2 Samuel 5:1-10
I love to read biography … to peer into the soul of another human being …
The times in which they lived;
Families they came from;
Schools they attended;
Teachers and preachers who shaped their spirit;
Struggles of conscience and soul;
Failures and sorrows;
Love given and love received.
Everything that makes a person tick …
I’m reading a biography of Carl Sandburg poet, journalist, social activist, a dreamer and a doer.
When I read the life of another human being, I learn about grace …
Everyone struggles, who doesn’t?
Everyone hopes and dreams, and fails and falls, and succeeds and wins … a grand mix of joy and tears.
A strange mix, aren’t we?
Self-absorbed on Tuesday, and on
Wednesday, we’re giving ourselves away to great causes.
We have greatness in our bones,
And we have sin in our sinews.
When I read of others, I learn how important everyone is … for everyone to be all that they can be … to strive for fullness of life and maturity of character … to give yourself a break now and then, and to give others the same generous tolerance …
We rise about our failures – we forgive, and we’re forgiven … we live and we learn …
I love to read biography.
And that’s what we’ve been doing the last few weeks here at Covenant … David’s biography.
The shepherd boy … the court musician …
The poet and the warrior.
A man after God’s own heart, says the Bible.
But still a man …
Our chapter today in David’s life – he takes the city of Jerusalem – in the highlands of southern Canaan … a wise political move.
A king needs a capital.
Jerusalem had little strategic or economic value.
Isolated in the highlands.
Trade and commerce went around it.
But David needed a clean start!
David needed a city.
Something brand new for a brand new time.
Sort of like our own Washington, D.C.
A new capital city.
Neither New York nor Philadelphia.
Neither Charleston nor Richmond.
Neither North nor South.
A new capital for a new nation for a new day.
That’s what David did.
David used his power to create a new chapter in Israel’s story.
But … and there’s always a “but,” isn’t there?
A “but” to every story.
As much as we would like to eliminate the “but’s” from our stories, we can’t, and never will.
Not as long as there’s sin in the story … and there’s plenty of sin to go around for everyone.
Everyone has a few “but’s” thrown into the mix.
David has his “but’s” …
And David’s biographer doesn’t shy away from it.
This great man.
This man after God’s own heart,
Can be mean-spirited and intemperate.
That’s the way life is, isn’t it?
Like a home, we have a living room, bright and cheery, and when guests arrive, to the living room we go – we’re proud of it, and we’re glad to welcome folks to our living room.
“Here, sit down. Want a drink? I’ll get it for you.”
But with … there’s a “but” here … we have other rooms, don’t we?
Closets and attics and basements.
Crammed with junk … dirty and unkempt …
And we’d never show them to our guests.
Our family knows.
Maybe a few close friends.
And maybe only you and I know.
The dark places of the soul.
David used his power to build a kingdom.
David abused his power to satisfy his anger and pride.
In one of the strangest twists of the story, the Jebusites thought their city to be safe – We’re so safe, they said, even the blind and the lame could defeat David.
When the dust settles, David takes it out on the blind and the lame … in some bizarre symbolic gesture, he says, There will never be a place here for you … never! For as long as I’m king, the blind and the lame will never enter the palace.
This part of the story hits me hard … this abuse of power … the power to shut the door.
The story of the church in too many instances:
The Medieval Church excommunicated folks left and right, and if you were excommunicated from the church, barred from the Sacraments, you were going to hell when you died.
And how about the Inquisition? Anyone who dared to think out of the box was tried and tortured … all in the name of Jesus.
Even our good friend John Calvin used the power of the church to imprison and punish Anabaptists, and, sadly, he gave approval to the burning of Servetus, a theologian who had questions about the Trinity.
In 17th century Scotland, you were barred from communion if you couldn’t produce a communion token received the week before at a preparatory service.
You were barred from white churches in America if you were a person of color.
Women were barred from the pulpt.
And who else are we barring?
Roman Catholics keep the door closed to Protestants.
Pentecostals exclude those who don’t speak in tongues.
Fundamentalists lift their noses at those who’ve not had a dramatic late-night conversion in the parking lot of a seedy bar.
Evangelicals of various sorts turn away from those who fail to pass a theological test on the atonement.
Hardcore fundamentalists bar those who are soft on abortion and are open to civil rights for gays and lesbians.
Conservative Presbyterians exclude me from the kingdom of God – I’m a servant of Satan, deluded in my vanities; I’ve abandoned Scripture and the hallowed traditions of the church, they say … and when they can’t get rid of the likes of me, they go off and form their own denomination, because they’re better and purer than we are.
Why do we do this to one another?
Because we can.
It feels good, doesn’t it, to exclude.
Oh come on now, we all do it.
It’s a function of power.
Power gone bad.
Just like David.
The power to create a kingdom.
And the power to bar the door to the blind and to the lame.
It’s all about power …
I’m the king and I’m the crown.
I’m the priest, I’m the pastor.
I’m the pope, I’m the bishop.
I’m powerful … I can do this, if I want.
But it’s more than just a big story about kings and popes … it’s a small story, too.
I knew a family whose son married a young lady from Japan, and Mom and Dad were so displeased, they stopped talking with them – when I got to know the family, they and their son hadn’t talked in years – They’ve seen the grandchildren only twice in ten years.
When we bar the door to someone, who becomes the prisoner?
I know a retired pastor who has a gay son.
He never ever talks about what that means for the family.
And to this day, he remains opposed to the ordination of gays and lesbians.
He calls himself an evangelical.
I call him a prisoner!
When we bar the door to someone, who becomes the prisoner?
I’ve counseled with families over the years …
I’ve learned something mighty important:
Never sacrifice a person for a principle … never burn a bridge that you might have to cross someday… never bar the door, because you alone will be the prisoner.
The mother and father who disowned their son denied themselves much pleasure - the son and his family felt a sadness, but they lived their lives just fine; it was Mom and Dad who paid the greater price.
The evangelical pastor has denied himself the fullness of life that a father and a son could enjoy.
The pastor puts principle over the personhood of his son.
The son lives a good and productive life … it’s the father who pays the greater price, because he has to say one thing to his evangelical audience, and then try to say to his son, “I love you, because you’re my son.”
When we bar the door to someone, who becomes the prisoner?
But let’s move on.
There’s more to the story.
David used his power to build a kingdom.
David abused his power when he barred the door.
But here’s another “but” …
David fused his power with God as David learned more about grace and leaned on God’s mercy! It was David who wrote, The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want …
To use power is one thing …
To abuse power is common …
To fuse power with God, now that’s a Christian life.
I turn to the New Testament, to another hero of mine, the Apostle Paul.
A powerful man.
Who used and abused his power.
And then, on the Damascus Road, Paul fused his power with the love and mercy of God.
I can do all things in Christ, who strengthens me, writes Paul.
I’ve worked harder than anyone else, he writes, but it wasn’t me, it was grace.
Paul’s power fused with God’s love.
To fuse our power with the love of God … so that we can be the light of the world and the salt of the earth, as Jesus said.
I end with some reflections on our nation’s power.
The power of America.
With our power, we’ve built a kingdom.
But let’s ask the “but” question: Has our power ever gone wrong?
Whom have we excluded?
As Christians within a powerful nation, we have to be careful … careful that we’re not mesmerized by power …
I thrill at a flight of F-18s overhead.
I get emotional when I see the Stars and Stripes held high.
I get choked up when I sing, “America the Beautiful.”
But as a Christian, I have to be careful, just because I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus …
To look at Christ, tunnel vision disappears.
I see the nations of the world … all the peoples.
I have a dual citizenship – I’m a citizen of America, and I am a citizen of the kingdom of God … for America, I have a passport; for the kingdom of God, I have a certificate of baptism … and the love of Christ sealed on my heart by the Holy Spirit … and so do you!
Too many Christians fuse their power with the power of the nation rather than the love of Christ.
Too many Christians wrap the cross of Christ in patriotic bunting … too many Christians fuse their hopes and dreams with America’s destiny.
Too many Christians fuse their pride with the strength of our military forces and too many Christians support the dreams of some politicians to dominate the world and consume earth’s natural resources.
Power is mesmerizing.
Power, said Henry Kissenger, is a great aphrodisiac …
Beguiling and seducing …
When Christians fuse their power too closely to a nation, bad things happen …
Nazi Germany, where millions of Christians – pastor, priest and parishioner - pledged loyalty to the Fatherland, to Der Fuehrer and to Germany’s national aspirations for expansion and racial purity.
As witnessed with Japan and its emperor – religion and state fused together …
In radical Islamic states … nation and faith are one …
A dangerous mix – the fusion of religion and state.
As Christians in a powerful nation, we must be careful.
Alert and aware.
Above all else, global in our thoughts and prayers:
For God so loved the world, and for that world, so large and grand, so strange and fierce, God gave the only beloved son, to reconcile the world to God, to welcome the blind and the lame into the place, to bring release to the captives and hope to all of God’s creation – including dogs and whales and cows and pigs and you and me!
For God so loved the world …
Christians can never simply say of their nation, “America First” or “Germany First, or “Britain First”
When we sing, “God Bless America” we must also sing, “God Bless All the Nations of the World,” and all creatures, great and small.
As Christians in a powerful nation, we have to be careful.
To fuse our power with the love of Jesus Christ.
Then we will be the best citizens of our land.
To serve our nation best of all, when we serve Christ first of all!
Christ first in all things.
Christ above all the other powers.
Christ on the cross and Christ in the tomb,
Christ raised on the third day …
And ascended into heaven …
Christ coming again to finish the work …
To fuse our power with the love of Christ.
And use our power to build God’s kingdom on earth … thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Amen and Amen!
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